


The Future of Past Pain

by storywriter8



Series: Wizards and Werewolves and Wind Oh My! [16]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e13 The Future Job, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Not Beta Read, Protective Eliot Spencer, Scene Rewrite, Secrets, Sibling Death, Werewolf Eliot Spencer, Wind Elemental Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywriter8/pseuds/storywriter8
Summary: When a fake medium drags up pain from Parker's past, Eliot finds his own painful past rearing its ugly head.
Series: Wizards and Werewolves and Wind Oh My! [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1157621
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	The Future of Past Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote, edited and posted this in the last two hours. I cant tell if its good or bad and I'm about to fall asleep but I HAD to post it before bed. Its that kind of night. Enjoy?

They found her in the pillow den. 

Crying.

Parker didn't even bother to hide her tears, just clutched a pillow to her chest and stared at the far wall with unfocused eyes. 

Hardison crawled in with her, taking his tablet and being careful not to touch her without permission. He didn't speak, didn't know what to say. They may have the bond of being magical foster kids but their childhoods had been vastly different as Parker was passed around and Hardison lucked out and found a home in the arms of the witch who insisted on being called Nana by all her foster children.

“I don't like mediums,” Parker mumbled in explanation, still not looking at the others.

Eliot settled beside the den, watching the wind sprite as Nate and Tara explained how the charlatan, Rand, had done a cold read to dredge up Parker’s buried pain. He watched as Parker tugged Hardison’s arms around her as he showed her the evidence of their mark’s tricks. He flexed his hands, itching to hit something, break something, do anything to stop the wind sprites tears. But he couldn't bring himself to go to her, not even when her pain turned to anger and looked to him to make it better.

“I wanna kill him. Can we make that happen?” Parker asked the hitter, not bothering to get permission from their mastermind. Instead, she reached out her hand to Eliot, asking for help, asking to be held.

“Yeah,” Eliot growled without hesitation, eyes flickering away from Parker as he started thinking of how he would end the man. Then he blushed and stammered as the rest of the team turned to stare at him. “I can... I mean, I could…” But it was worth the embarrassment as Parker gave him a watery smile. 

Nate suggested that instead of murder, making the world think that Rand was the greatest psychic that ever lived and then destroying him in front of everyone would be far better. Everyone went along with him and his plan, as they always did, even when that ex bank robber barged into the middle of their con.

But Parker was quiet, reserved, and had disappeared near the end of the con, dragging Hardison with. She had returned with an envelope of cash for their client’s baby and no explanation.

Eliot was quite a bit put out that he had not been invited on what he assumed had to have been a treasure hunt and stormed back into Nate’s apartment in a huff. He grumpily started cleaning up the mess that always filled the apartment during their jobs. Costumes, hacked documents, props and tech was strewn across the tables, couches and kitchen counters. It wasn't as good as a fight, or even cooking a meal, but the mindless action of cleaning helped center Eliot and allowed him to find his way through the storm of emotions that continued to rage through him.

Parker had lost a brother. A brother she had cared about. Facing all the crap a cruel, heartless world had thrown at her, Parker had chosen to reach out. She had reached out and connected with another person. And the universe had torn it away from her. She lived through her brother’s death.

Rand may have paid the price for poking at the wind sprite’s emotions but Parker would carry the pain of her brother’s death for the rest of her days.

Eliot’s hands stilled, a dirty drinking glass suspended over the sink, as the vial feeling that had kept him from reaching out to comfort his friend rose in the back of his throat.

“I don't need your pity,” Parker grumbled as she appeared in the apartment, startling Eliot out of his daze and causing him to crush the glass in his hand. 

“Damn it, Parker!” he hissed, trying to keep from cutting himself or dropping any of the glass pieces on the floor. Tossing the glass in the garbage, the hitter turned and eyed the pouting wind sprite. “It's not pity.”

“Then what?” Parker asked, fresh tears springing to her eyes as she stomped her foot and flickered in and out of focus, blowing the papers Eliot had stacked up back onto the floor. “You wouldn’t even look at me but volunteered to commit murder for me? I don't understand feelings so explain!”

Eliot opened his mouth but nothing came out, guilt and fear fighting to keep him silent and finally tell his secrets.

“Did you have a brother who died?” Parker quietly asked after watching the hitter struggle with his words for several minutes. 

Swallowing everything he wanted to say, Eliot walked around the kitchen island and pulled the wind sprite into his arms. He sighed as Parker cuddled up under his chin. “No, Parker. I don't have a brother who died.”


End file.
